


Doing This For Myself

by rage_quitter



Series: McHanzo Week 2017 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, McHanzo Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: McHanzo Week Day 5: Traditional/Unorthodox"You come here every year on the same day."He risks as much now, for a different reason. He does not need to risk it alone.





	Doing This For Myself

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope i did dear hanzo justice here, and that i did the spanish and japanese well enough. let me know if i should change anything wrt respecting their cultures!

McCree had seen this place only once before.

He stared up at the ancient wooden gate. The insignia raised on the door was intimately familiar to him, but still felt strange. 

A little pink petal fluttered down in front of him in the breeze. A dozen more followed it, swirling around him, gathering in little piles in corners and crooks. 

“You sure about this?”

He turned his head to peer at the man who stood beside him. He stood in his battle gear, but his bow was along his back, no arrows in hand. Hanzo was staring up at the sign, as well. 

“You know… you don’t need to do this,” McCree said softly when Hanzo didn’t answer. “It’s been thirteen years. Genji’s fine. He’s told you how he feels about this.”

“I am not doing this for Genji,” Hanzo replied. There was nothing cold in his voice.

McCree lifted his cigar, nearly burned down, for a final drag. He stomped out the butt with his heel, spur jingling softly in the near silence. “You okay?”

“I have been doing this for the past thirteen years, Jesse. I am not going to end my tradition. It has… a new meaning.” 

With no more words, Hanzo moved forward. He pressed his hand against the gate. His eyes sparked blue, and electricity flickered along his arm to his fingertips on the wood. The Shimada dragons on the door moved-- their eyes lit up with the same blue light. 

The gate moved open on its own.

McCree whistled as it creaked and the doors pulled inwards. “Damn. Y’all Shimadas got some wild powers.”

Hanzo gave him a tight-lipped smile that wouldn’t be a smile at all on anyone else. He tilted his head, a gesture to follow, before striding forward with confidence into the Shimada estate.

The only other time McCree had seen inside, it had been when Overwatch reclaimed the castle. The clan was scattered like ashes in the wind, their heirs turning against their yakuza heritage to fight for the good of mankind. And omnickind, McCree mentally added, thinking about Genji and his mentor. 

Now, it was empty. It felt strange, seeing it completely dark, only the moon and stars to give them light. Beyond the walls, the city glittered and glowed, but the castle grounds remained in shadow.

Hanzo’s territory, McCree thought, watching him step forward on nearly silent feet.

McCree followed him, hand resting on Peacekeeper, trying to keep his jingling steps as quiet as possible. The evening was cool and the air smelled sweet and floral.

“Hanzo,” McCree murmured as they headed toward the castle. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“It is… strange, being here again,” Hanzo replied, pausing to look up at the castle, at the shrine. “In such a difference circumstance. I am not alone, and I am not afraid. There is no need to break in. And… my brother is not dead. I am not here to mourn him.” He turned his glance to McCree. “I do appreciate your concern, but I will be fine.”

“Okay, honey. I’m here for you.” McCree tipped his hat back a little with a smile.

Hanzo walked slowly, with cautious purpose, up to the shrine. McCree kept behind him, memorizing everything he saw. It was beautiful here.

As they stepped inside, Hanzo reached into his bag and took out a lamp. “I doubt there is any power here right now,” he said as he turned it on. “This will have to do.”

McCree nodded. There were lanterns and stuff, but none were lit. Still, Hanzo’s lamp was bright enough to see most of the large room. He craned his neck to get a better look at the blue and green dragon mural on the wall, the scroll hanging up with characters he couldn’t read.

Below it sat a sword on a stand. Even now, years later, the torn edge of the scroll was stained red.

McCree couldn’t look at the sword for very long. He’d seen the damage it had done to his friend. 

The man who once wielded that sword knelt in front of it. He set the lamp to the side and reached in his bag again.

McCree approached and offered his lighter when Hanzo had taken out a few sticks of incense. “Here,” he said softly.

Hanzo smiled up at him, unreadable emotions in his eyes. “Thank you.”

McCree’s mouth quirked up before he stepped back to give Hanzo room.

He watched him set up the small altar. The incense, the feather, the bowl of something. Hanzo did it silently. The smell of sandalwood began to drift through the air, mingling with the cherry blossom’s sweeter fragrance.

McCree got antsy pretty quickly. Hanzo could meditate for hours, but McCree found himself fidgeting after just a minute.

He’d just finished a cigar, but already needed another one to occupy his hands. 

Not wanting to smoke inside, McCree tried to move as quietly as possible along the room to the deck sort of thing to the left. He could see deep grooves in the ground that hadn’t been patched over well and wondered if those were from one of the brothers’ fights. 

He spent the time out there texting Genji, who sent plenty of eye-rolling emojis in response to the report of Hanzo’s somber attitude. Genji really didn’t seem to care that Hanzo still came here, on the same day, even after learning he hadn’t killed his brother after all. “If it makes him feel better, I will not argue,” he’d said.

Still. McCree wasn’t sure it was healthy. 

But it really wasn’t like his own coping habits were all that great for him, either. The tobacco burned in his lungs. 

When he finally came wandering back in, Hanzo’s voice startled him.

“Jesse. Do you want to know why I wish to return here every year?”

McCree came over, and after a moment’s hesitation, he sat down beside Hanzo. “Yeah. If you want to tell me, honey.”

“I know Genji is not dead. I am not here for that anymore. I do not need to mourn him, to honor his life, to offer these things to his spirit.” He gestured at the things laid out in front of him. “I am doing this for me now. I must remember what my past held so I can use it. So I can become stronger in the future. I cannot erase the pain I have caused. All I can do is something as equally good to balance the wounds I caused myself and my brother. This is a reminder to me of why I am doing everything I am. 

“This is a tradition for me now. I may have shed my past life, shunned what I used to believe, and taken up a mantle for good and justice in this world, like you have, like Genji has. But every story has a beginning, and it is important never to forget it. The context has changed, the reason has changed. Yet I would feel wrong were I not to come here on this day.”

McCree was quiet, letting the words sink in.

“I understand,” he said after a minute of watching the incense smoke drift. “I can’t completely relate, I don’t think. Always was a little more cowardly than you. Never could go back to places with bad memories and shit. But I can see why you wanna come back here. And I respect it. I got a lotta respect for you anyway, of course, but… I dunno, darlin’. Yer somethin’ special.”

Hanzo’s smile was genuine. “I am glad to be sharing this moment with you. It is… less painful now, with you by my side.”

McCree leaned over to press a kiss to the shaven side of Hanzo’s head. “Got any other traditions you wanna show me while we’re in Japan?”

“Now that you mention it…” Hanzo was still smiling. “I am not sure if we would necessarily be welcome, all things considered, but there is a ramen shop nearby that I think you would love. I could show you the arcade Genji used to hang out in a lot. We could go see a few of the other places we explored as children…”

“Anything you wanna do, I’m game,” McCree assured, hearing the uncertainty entering Hanzo’s voice as he’d continued speaking. “I wanna know all about you, how you grew up, what trouble you got into as a kid.”

Hanzo scoffed. “That was Genji’s speciality. Though… when I was much younger, I was not much better, if I am honest.”

McCree laughed, the sound echoing off the wooden walls. “What else’re kids for, though, really? Exploring and getting into shit they shouldn’t. Least you grew up in a city. I ever tell you about that time I got lost in the desert for three days when I was seven?”

Hanzo’s eyes went wide. “What? No, you didn’t.”

He chuckled again. “I’m laughin’ about it now, but it was the scariest three days of my young life. I went out chasing lizards with our dog and before I knew it, I was far away from any sign of civilization. Lucky for me I already had a bottle of water on me and got taught how to scavenge a bit, so I wasn’t gonna keel over from that. My moms were freakin’ out the whole time, got the whole tribe on the lookout for me.” He shook his head. “Got home safe and sound, though I had to keep goin’ back to the doctor make sure I was okay. My moms were real worried about me gettin’ sick from it. I did get lots of hot chocolate after, though, which made up for it.”

“Sounds like it was quite the adventure.”

“I was the coolest kid on the playground,” McCree joked. “That actually got me thinkin’, though… you’re sharin’ your traditions with me. I dunno if I could find all the things I need here, but I wanna share something with you.”

Hanzo looked curious. “I would be honored.”

Hanzo didn’t want to stay for very much longer, but he had a different expression when he looked at the sword than he’d worn when he arrived. McCree hoped he was really learning to forgive himself. As they walked back out the way they had come, Hanzo looked up at McCree. “What is it, exactly that you wish to share?”

“Nothin’ too crazy. The hot chocolate my moms used to make for me as a little kid. I’ll have to use dairy-free milk for you, but it’ll be fine. Y’all sell that kinda stuff around here, right? I know milk ain’t a common drink in Japan.”

“Yes, milk is sold here,” Hanzo said, amused. “There are some stores that will be open late.”

“Wal-Mart,” McCree mumbled. 

“There is Wal-Mart,” Hanzo said with a small laugh. “It is universal, I think.”

McCree reached over to brush cherry blossoms from Hanzo’s shoulder and plucked one from his hair. 

After a short, late night shopping spree, where McCree tried to convince Hanzo to buy matching t-shirts as well and snuck a Pokemon plushie for Hanzo into the basket, the two made their way back to the fancy hotel room they were staying in. It was really more of an apartment, but for stays of a few weeks. Fanciest place McCree had slept in in ages.

“How’s this stove work?” McCree asked in frustration. While it was Western in design, he was more used to an old-fashioned gas or electric range. This was some fancy future tech.

Eventually, McCree had the stove on and was slowly stirring hot chocolate with cinnamon and nutmeg and the tiniest pinch of red pepper, which Hanzo had seemed uncertain about but was willing to try anyway. 

Hanzo sat on the counter with his ankles crossed, alternating between watching McCree hum while stirring, and texting someone. Probably Genji or Satya. It felt peacefully domestic, even in a nation foreign to one. 

McCree felt a little squeeze in his chest. He could get used to this. He’d been on the road, on the run, for so long; it was almost painfully nice to be able to make such a familiar drink in casual clothes, weapon in another room, the love of his life looking so relaxed with his hair down in one of McCree’s unbuttoned flannel shirts.

McCree let the spoon go for a moment to put his hand on Hanzo’s knee. He looked up, a question on his lips, but it was swallowed by a kiss.

Hanzo’s phone clacked softly on the counter as he set it down so he could reach up and cup the back of McCree’s neck. Neither made any attempt at heating the kiss, keeping it sweet and lazy. 

“I love you,” McCree told him when he pulled back.

The three words spilled from his mouth every day, as often as McCree could say it. Every time it was more and more true.

Hanzo smiled. “You are the stars in my sky,” he replied. 

Hanzo had never been much for explicit statements and confessions, but McCree thought it was cute when he waxed a little poetic. He leaned in to kiss him again, but Hanzo touched his chest lightly.

“ _ Ai shiteiru, _ ” he said softly.

McCree blinked at him. He wracked his brain in panic--what did that mean again? Something romantic, obviously,  _ shit,  _ he couldn’t remember what it translated to.

A sudden look of uncertainty crossed Hanzo’s face.

“Sweetheart,” McCree murmured, running his fingers through Hanzo’s hair. “I, um. I dunno what that means, but it must mean somethin’ important.”

Hanzo let out a small, nervous laugh. “Oh. That’s right. It’s… it means I love you. But there’s… a… nuance? A different meaning? It means I love you… but… more. Very much.”

“Like…  _ te quiero  _ compared to  _ te amo _ ?”

“I… I think?” Hanzo frowned. 

McCree laughed. “Language barriers sure are fun.”

“It’s… it is really only used between lovers. People who are very fond of each other. I only heard my own parents say it rarely.”

McCree stared at him, the gravity of the phrase finally hitting him. 

“I know if it is too much, I apologize. I am not… not terribly good with these sorts of situations--”

McCree cupped his face and kissed him again. “Don’t, no, you’re perfect, Hanzo, I love you. You mean the world to me.”

Hanzo wrapped his arms around McCree. “I am glad, then.”

They stayed in silence for a moment.

“I gotta stir the hot chocolate, sweetpea.”

Hanzo released him with a small laugh.

When McCree was certain the hot chocolate was done, they found mugs and settled in a pile of limbs and blankets in the other room with some drama playing on TV that McCree couldn’t understand. 

He watched Hanzo with anticipation as he raised his mug once it was cool enough to drink.

Hanzo looked pleasantly surprised. “It’s very good.”

McCree grinned widely. “Ain’t quite like Ma used to make, but I tried. I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Jesse.” Hanzo rested his head against McCree’s shoulder. 

“Love’s about sharing stuff, right? Beds, recipes, traditions.”

Hanzo snorted. “You are ridiculous. I adore you.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @rage-quitter


End file.
